


No Sanctity for Ceremony

by loadedcasserole



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Fake Marriage, Fic-Challenge, Gen, Marriage, Of a sorts, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loadedcasserole/pseuds/loadedcasserole
Summary: Clockwork had certain opinions on marriage, and out of them all, there was a serious lack of reverence for the practice.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	No Sanctity for Ceremony

On top of the mantle of a lit fireplace, there sat a loose stack of paper. It only caught Danny’s eye, on this day, because it was looking particularly tall and fit to topple.

Danny approached it and carefully lifted a handful.

He would just move some. If the pile got any taller, he reasoned, then it could collapse and a stray spark could light the whole living-room on fire. Clockwork might be aware of it already, but letting it go like this didn’t point in the ghost’s favor, and it just didn’t hurt to be cautious.

Danny glanced at the paperwork. Much of it seemed to be letters and receipts.

“Ah, you’ve found my junk mail.”

He jolted and turned to see Clockwork in the doorway.

Danny waved the sheaf up. “If it's junk, then why don’t you just toss it?”

The spirit settled into a nearby chair. “It makes good kindling sometimes. Depends on the paper.”

“Oh.” He grinned. “Sooo, can I take a look?”

Clockwork let out a short laugh. “Nosy,” he berated and grabbed at a book on the nearby end table. “If you’d like. Let me know if there’s anything important I missorted in there.”

“Like what?”

The ghost shrugged. “Coupons, perhaps.”

He raised his eyebrows at the thought. He hadn’t ever really thought about ghost merchants or stores. Danny flipped a letter over. He had never thought about mail either.

“Are there ghost mail-men? Mail-ghosts?” he asked.

A few pages were quickly turned before Clockwork answered, “Not like you’re thinking of. There is no large organization. We have couriers, or for an exorbitant fee, the instant transmission of letters.”

“Huh.” Cool.

He sat on the floor and poked through the mess. A lot of it was in another language, but he spotted a few that he could parse. Although with even those, the cursive was so loopy that it took several moments to figure out that it was, in fact, fairly understandable.

Danny brought curling parchment close to his face and squinted. “You have a work order in here for a . . . mayor installment?”

“Put it in the burn pile.”

“ . . . It says it’s urgent.”

“Burn pile.”

He slowly set it aside, to give Clockwork the chance to change his mind.

He didn’t.

Danny picked through a few more illegible papers and sorted a receipt for a mattress in the trash pile. Danny then picked up the first, unopened letter. According to the front, it was, just like the work orders, sent from the Observants.

Clockwork clearly didn’t care for them, and hadn’t ever given Danny much reasoning behind it, besides that they were “annoying”. It made Danny very curious about what they did to make them so bothersome. He opened the letter. 

Right away, he saw that it was a lot shorter and less formal than the ones before.

_Clockwork,_

_I hope you’ve had your fun, because your window for choosing is coming to a close. Produce an eligible marriage candidate by 1893.98.9477 or deal with one of ours._

_Signed,_

_Macula_

He read it again, and with each word, Danny’s jaw dropped just a little bit further. “Holy shit. Clockwork!”

He was answered with a distracted hum.

“Clockwork, you need to see this!” Danny rushed over to throw the letter on top of his book. The ghost wrinkled his nose like Danny had just dropped a fat lump of mud in his lap.

He gingerly picked it up and skimmed the words. “Ah. Already? Where has the time gone?” he smiled self-servingly as though he had said a particularly good joke. Unfortunately, Danny had long become immune to the spirit's brand of humor.

“Marriage like, marriage-marriage? For you? Are they serious?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Clockwork did some unusual folding with the paper. “And yes, the Ghost Zone has marriages that are similar to those on Earth. There are a few key differences though. For one, the ceremony doesn’t often include a ring. Well, it’s really up to the participants, but usually-”

Danny interrupted, “Why do they want you to get married?” 

The bit of paper had become an airplane, and Clockwork carefully launched it into the fireplace.

It burned merrily. 

“They’ll tell you that it’s because domesticity will keep me sane, but it’s a ploy for power. Once I’m married, they’ll try to get my partner to sabotage, or spy on me in some way, or they’ll threaten them until I give into their petty demands.”

“ . . . Oh my God.”

Clockwork leaned back in his chair and rested his chin in his hand. “Yes, it’s a fine mess.”

“So . . . you won’t get married.”

“I’d rather not, but it’s just something that I’ll have to do.”

“Why?”

A wink was sent his way. “Because I worked hard to negotiate for it.” 

At Danny’s stumped silence, he further elaborated. “It works in my favor. The Observants think that they have a way to control me, and I’ve find that it’s best to let them think so. If I stop, then they might actually try being creative.” He tapped on the glass of his internal clock for emphasis. “There’s little danger, and it gets them off my case.”

Clockwork turned back into his book and indecisively pulled a page to and fro, searching for the spot he had left off at. He seemed as unconcerned for the situation as Danny was with a two day project deadline.

Danny made his way to the chair opposite and sank in it bonelessly.

Well. If Clockwork had a handle on it, then great. He supposed the letter really was just junk mail to him then. Danny couldn’t say that he’d be as chill about it in the same situation.

A smile snaked across his face as a thought occurred. “Okaaay. So. Who’s the lucky ghost?”

Who did Clockwork have a crush on? Was it someone he knew? He hoped not. Danny hadn’t made a lot of other friends in the Ghost Zone, and if he had to fight someone every time he came to Clockwork’s tower, it was going to get old very fast.

“Not sure.”

He blinked. “Really? Don’t you like someone?”

“Not particularly. And even if I did, I wouldn’t subject them to dealing with whatever the Observants cook up.”

“How are you going to pick then?”

“I don’t know . . . ” the spirit trailed off, as though he were presented with the far off dilemma of what to have for dinner a week from then. He turned another page. “ . . . Here’s a thought. Why don’t you pick for me?”

Danny stared owlishly.

He couldn’t have possibly heard that right.

“What?”

"Pick for me," Clockwork repeated with a conspiratorial glance. "I'm open to try with anyone you'd choose. You could even make it a surprise, if you wanted."

“ . . . You’re not serious.”

"No? Putting real thought into the matter is tedious. And since we would divorce at the earliest opportunity, nothing actually matters. If I must marry, then I may as well have a spot of fun with it, wouldn't you say?"

Danny stared as yet more insanity fell from Clockwork's mouth.

"You could pick someone I might like and play the part of a little cupid . . .”

Clockwork’s eyes appeared darker and wet, like fluid pooling in a wound.

“. . . Or you could set your enemies on me and watch as I drive them mad.” 

He was serious.

Danny couldn’t believe it. This was the weirdest, most adult thing that someone had ever asked of him in his life. No more was he Danny Fenton, who people ignored after they asked him about his grades, and who was barely trusted to pick his own haircut. Instead he was given the option to do something with _someone else’s_ life that had real repercussions, whatever they might be.

He was, for a moment, afraid. And honored. He had never been presented with something this important before, and despite how flippant Clockwork was about it, it was important. If only just a bit.

It took him a lot less time to come to decision than it probably warranted.

“Alri-”

“Perhaps your mother? She’s caused quite a stir before. Would you say that her and Jack have a steady relationship?”

“No!”

“Oh, they do not? That’s terr-”

“You’re not marrying my mom! You’re going to marry . . . someone else. I’ll have to think about it.”

“Alright, but not too long. There’s only two weeks to go.”

_“Two weeks?!”_

* * *

Danny stood in a court before a gathering of Observants, whose gaze never failed to strike him with its intensity. This time, there was a certain buzz to the air that had never before been present.

They were excited and it made him uneasy.

He tried to imperceptibly glance at Clockwork, to again check how noticeable the crack was on the face of his internal clock. 

Despite the bonding material, and the paint that had been added to cover it, there was a faint, hairline fracture running across the clock-face. It hadn’t been there when they had left the tower, but Clockwork’s movements, or those of the clock itself, had caused it to show.

Danny had to give the spirit credit for not so much as looking down.

Maybe no one would notice.

An observant, lodged to the left of a wide desk, tutted loudly. “So you’ve finally deigned to share with us your selection. It must have been so hard to even show today with so little free time you have.”

Clockwork sighed loudly. “It _was_ quite a challenge, and I thank you all for being so understanding.”

The head Observant testily threw a stack of papers to the side. “Very well. Present to us your choice.”

Danny glanced behind him with trepidation as Clockwork approached their volunteer.

Danny wished, for the umpteenth time, that he would have put more thought into the selection, or for Clockwork to have just taken the reins from the beginning, like any sane, normal person would do when confronted with _imminent marriage,_ but it was too late for any of that. They had, through circumstances that he was only starting to process, ran out of that precious time that had once been so abundant. They couldn't find a better alternative than the one they had. They _had_ to follow through. 

Thankfully, Clockwork seemed to think that the situation was salvageable, and didn’t show any misgivings at all as he guided their choice to the front, so that they could float side-by-side. “I present to you, my most _dear_ choice of candidate.”

The sound of a throat clearing filled the room.

“Good afternoon, my name is-”

**Author's Note:**

> I had to get this brain-worm out before it started nibbling on something important. I just really wanted Danny involved somehow and I’m getting a kick out of imagining what kind of weirdos he drags through the door.
> 
> You're welcome to take any of these ideas and run with them.


End file.
